


When The Roof Is On Fire

by Doodsxd



Series: Watch Me Unfold [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And Harry isn't having any of it, Angst, Break Up, Draco messes up, Fights, Friendship, Lack of Communication, M/M, Relationship Discussions, Slytherin Pride, envy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 21:39:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8940358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doodsxd/pseuds/Doodsxd
Summary: Harry had been invited as Draco’s plus one, and he noticed those things with a heavy chest. Things seemed alright after their last conversation, but in that night, in front of his Slytherin friends, it was clear that they were anything but alright.It was like he wasn’t even there.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hullo,
> 
> Another piece to this series, yay! I'm really proud of myself because I have a tendency of changing moods rather quickly and I can't keep up with big works. It's why I have a billion google docs filled with stories that I just can't finish. This one, though, I'm already on the last piece and it's flowing easily, so no worries. 
> 
> This one is a little bit angstier, but I'm a sucker for happy endings, so. Hang in there. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy it.

When The Roof Is On Fire

 

 

Party’s music was blaring, but Harry sat on the corner of the room, shaking a half-melted ice cube inside his glass. The lights were dimmed, as they always were at the newly weds Zabini’s club, but the decor was all different. Their little private party, without all the posh pureblood people and their good-manners, to celebrate the very happy union. 

Pansy and Blaise were funny, sharp and so in tune with one another, it almost seemed like they read each other’s thoughts. They were a perfect match, and it was really good to watch them interact with each other, especially on the small things; a touch to the hand to stop Pansy from talking too much, an eyeroll as a reply to a glare, a brush of fingers as an ‘I love you’ when the woman passed behind her husband to fetch herself a drink. 

Harry had been invited as Draco’s plus one, and he noticed those things with a heavy chest. Things seemed alright after their last conversation, but in that night, in front of his Slytherin friends, it was clear that they were anything but alright. 

The blond arrived with Harry, but since he let go of his hand to hug his former housemates, they didn’t touch, didn’t kiss. Draco seemed to be avoiding his gaze, ignoring that he was now on the other side of the room alone while he danced, talked, drank, played cards. And of course, Harry wasn’t that much of a jealous freak, but to see him give Pansy, the fag hag, and Blaise, his first, a mock lap dance each, while the others cheered and clapped, was a blow to the chest, but really only because he wasn’t there to laugh  _ with _ them, to catch Draco’s hand and kiss it when he was done. 

It was like he wasn’t even there. 

Once again a good song started and the Slytherin was on the dancefloor, surrounded by his friends, smiling and laughing, having fun. Harry was very much pleased to see him that happy, that free. It was good to know that there was more than one person who he could lower his shields and be himself with, no fear of judgement whatsoever. 

Despite their fame amongst the other Houses in Hogwarts, Harry had gathered from watching them for a few hours that they refused to judge each other, fiercely loyal. Yes, they were sharp and quick on stinging jabs and quite crude with the dirty jokes, but the respect and affection they held for each other ran deep, which explained why some mean words didn’t bring them down. 

Perhaps it came  _ exactly _ because of the joined hatred the remaining three houses seemed to hold for them, they were all very closely linked, willing to go through great lengths for each other, even if that meant going through their own principles, which the other houses would never do, a line to never cross.

Harry could see why he liked his friends better than Harry’s. They were all in tune with himself while the Gryffindors not always understood him. It was alright, Harry guessed, because he knew they liked each other, as he was learning to like the Slytherins. 

The only remaining question was if Draco would still like  _ him _ after that party. 

He grabbed the bottle of whisky at the empty bar, filled his glass once more and conjured a small cube of ice, dropping it right in the middle. 

“Enjoying yourself there, Potter?” A voice came from behind him, and Harry twisted his back on the stool to see who it was. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. 

“The groom.” He said, shifting so Zabini could sit by his side. “Congratulations.” 

“Thank you.” The black man served himself of exactly two fingers of Harry’s whisky - his whisky, really - and took a sip, turning to see what Harry was looking at. 

They sat in silence for a while. 

“I was surprised,” Blaise broke it with a placid voice that reminded Harry of Dumbledor. “And I wasn’t, at the same time, when I heard about you and Draco. You were always so obsessed with each other, it couldn’t be just hatred.” He informed Harry with a smile. “We had a pool on Slytherin, to see when would one of you finally admit that you had the hots for each other and drag the other to some hot session of makeout or when would someone catch you two into a hatesex session.” 

Harry smiled and wondered if it was that obvious to everybody. His ice cube swirled with the amber liquid inside his glass. “Who won?”

Zabini rolled his eyes. “Pansy, of course. That woman loves me, I know she does, but she knows Draco forwards and backwards. I’m sure if I made her choose between me and him, she’d pick him, fag or not.” He laughed. 

The Gryffindor nodded, unbothered by the information. The love between Pansy and Draco was old, and neither he nor Blaise were stupid enough to stand between that. 

“They were to be married, you know.” Blaise leaned back, elbows on the counter behind him, looking relaxed. “I would have been jealous of them if I hadn’t watched your interactions with him since we were eleven. I was sure that Draco was bent because of the way he talked about you. There was quite a lot of resentment for you being better than him in almost everything without even trying, but it was obvious that he wanted you to notice him at the same time. Your disapproval of him probably reminded him of his father, because he was always trying to catch your eye, for better or for worse.” 

Harry shuddered at the thought of Lucius, despite it all making a lot of sense to him. “It’s why you slept with him?” He asked, and immediately wanted to slap himself. “Because you knew he was bent?” 

Zabini just laughed, dark brown eyes gleaming under the blue light. “No. I wanted to know if I was bent too, since I wasn’t interested on any of the girls around me. Well, I fought a lot with Pansy, but I refused to acknowledge that what I wanted to do was to shove my dick between her legs until she screamed for another set of reasons.” Harry snorted at that, getting used to their filthy vocabulary. 

“Anyway, I wanted to try it, and Draco was my best friend. I loved him, still do, and he has always been so damn fit. I figured that if it didn’t work with him, it wouldn’t with any bloke.” He glanced at Harry, who smiled again. 

“Yeah.” He agreed. Sex with Draco was always an experience. If Zabini traded him for Parkinson -  _ Mrs. Zabini,  _ now - there was no way he was anything but straight as an arrow. 

“Yeah.” The Slytherin snorted. Harry wondered when he was going to reach the topic he wanted to poke since he started with that whole conversation. “So, a few weeks ago I head from Pansy that Draco was seeing someone, and a bit after that, that the bloke that Draco was seeing was no one but the great Harry Potter.” He turned full bodied to him. “And, mind you, I heard that from a fuming Lucius Malfoy, who cock-blocked me in order to talk the ears off of my fiancé, blaming her for not marrying Draco before he dragged his family’s name to the mud.” 

Harry winced, but the other man just laughed again. “It was hilarious, the way Pansy explained to him that if Draco liked cock, there was nothing she could do to remedy that, and that instead of yelling at her, he should stop being such a bigoted arse and leave her alone, because she just decided she would let me do her in the asshole in Draco’s honor.”

That made Harry sputter his drink and laugh so hard, some of the liquid burned inside his nostrils. Zabini laughed very loudly at that, slapping Harry’s back as he coughed, eyes tearing up from the stinging sensation. 

The Gryffindor saw Draco glance at them, but it was just for a moment, just before he got back to grinding into Bulstrode and Nott, sandwiched between them. 

“Yeah, I know.” Blaise agreed. “But, well, I thought, if Draco and Potter are together and Lucius knows it, it’s gotta be serious. And it lasted more than any of Draco’s past relationships too.” His groomed eyebrow shot up, and  _ there  _ it was. The point to the monologue. “So now I’m wondering what the fuck are you doing here, inside the closest thing to the snake’s dent that we could ever have outside of Hogwarts, getting wasted and sulking instead of shoving your tongue down his throat and showing all of those pricks who he belongs to.” 

Green eyes mapped the dancefloor once again, finding Draco there, back to back with Pansy as they swayed their hips to the floor. Harry sighed. 

“I think he’s ashamed of me.” He explained poorly. “When we’re out with my friends, or alone, it’s alright. He seemed happy before we left my place today, too. Once we arrived here, though…” His hand made a greater mess of his hair, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “He told me he liked it when I acted all possessive, but today he just shoved me aside.” Harry fidgeted under Zabini’s eyes. 

“I mean, I’m really glad I can see him shields down with other people, happy to know that there are people who love him so fiercely, even if they are short on numbers,” Blaise’s brow shot up once again. “But the few times I tried to go to him tonight he just dismissed me. I don’t know if it’s some old habit picking up on him because he’s around you guys again, but I don’t think he would even notice it if I left without warning him.” 

The black man’s head shook from side to side, white teeth contrasting beautifully with the darkness of his skin. “Oh, Potter. Don’t you see?” At Harry’s clueless face, he snorted. “He’s testing you.” 

“What?” Harry asked, because what the fuck?

“He’s testing you.” Zabini repeated. “To see if you’re ready and willing to got through fire, or, proverbially speaking, to shove some snakes aside, to be with him. I am positive he’s been aware of exactly where you are for the whole night.” 

Potter played with his melting ice again, staring at it. “I don’t know. Even if it’s that, I don’t like those games, with tests and misdirection. Not only because I’m clueless to them,” He admitted, making the other man roll his eyes. “I can’t help it, I am. But also because I think I would prefer an open, honest relationship.” 

“Honesty requires a great deal of courage, Potter.” The Slytherin warned. “And that’s not really our thing. Especially Draco’s. He needs to feel safe before even dreaming of opening himself up.”

“I know,” Harry closed his eyes, remembering the way Draco talked about his parents and his childhood. “I know that. It’s hard, I knew it would be hard, it’s hard for me too.” 

“So,” Zabini shrugged. “What’s the problem, then?” 

Harry sighed. “I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. I guess that while he needs to feel safe and wanted, translating that to a somewhat possessive behavior, I need to feel like I belong.” He looked Blaise in the eye, feeling too raw, too naked under the knowing, analytic gaze. “Like I know he could get along without me, but that he chooses not to. Ask me to hold his coat, to fetch him a drink, lean on me when he’s tired or sleepy, even tying his damn  _ shoe _ .” He laughed derisively of himself. 

“You need to be recognized for taking care of him.” Zabini translated, and what was it with Slytherins and their ability to synthesize everything, as simple or complex as it was, into a single sentence? 

“Yeah.” Harry agreed, head hanging low. He looked as he felt: defeated. “But now because I want attention all the time, but because taking care of someone it’s how I know how to love.” He ignored the way Zabini’s eyes widened at the word ‘love’. “And I need to know that he sees that, or else I’ll feel like the message isn’t getting through and I’ll be like this.” He pointed to himself. “A mopy bastard with an insecurity streak that’s bigger than the list of stupid things I’ve ever done in my life, and believe me, despite the good results, they’re a  _ lot _ .” 

Zabini nodded, empathically and understanding. “Why don’t you tell him that, then?” He asked calmly, with a tone of advice. “He left very clear what he needed of you, so why don’t you go there and return the favor?” 

Harry looked at Zabini, and then to the smiling, dancing figure that would catch his eye anywhere, anytime. He sighed. 

“Maybe another time.” He stood up, leaving the glass behind on the counter. “I’m done for tonight.” He smiled again, this time a bit brighter, feeling somewhat better after letting it off his chest. “Thanks for having me and congratulations on the wedding. You’re truly well-matched and I’m sure it’s going to last forever.” 

Blaise just nodded, smiling back at him a bit worriedly. “Thanks, Potter. Take care.” He stood up to shake Harry’s hand. “Want me to warn him that you left?” 

Harry thought about it for a second, and then shrugged. “Nah. Let him notice by himself.” 

Zabini looked dubious, but ended up nodding. “It’s your call.” 

“Yeah.” Harry looked back to Draco’s dancing form one last time. “It is.”

He walked outside unnoticed, his feet leading him forward aimlessly for a few blocks as he tried to shake that weird feeling out. 

Once that didn’t work, he apparated home and sought another bottle of whisky to soothe his aches. He made it halfway through it before he decided to go to bed, only putting himself through the trouble of taking off his shoes before falling face on into his sheets. 

He woke up with sun on his eyes, feeling like he chewed sandpaper. Draco was nowhere to be found, but his coat and vest were draped over the chair by the corner of the room, so he was home. 

Harry found him in the kitchen, a cup of tea already waiting for him. He sat down and looked at Draco, who was playing with his mug, not really drinking anything. 

Silence stretched between them. Draco looked good, obviously showered, hair still humid and smelling faintly of coconut. Malfoy didn’t really care about the general norms of genders and smells, favouring whatever fancied him, sharp, spicy, sweet, smoky, musky. It didn’t really matter, and Harry could often catch a delicious whiff of something fruity or spicy, like cinnamon or vanilla, out of his clothes, skin or hair, which pleased him immensely. 

Now, the smell filled him with longing. He sipped on the tea, finding it was peppermint. 

“Why did you leave?” Draco broke the silence, glancing at Harry briefly before going back to staring at his fingers cupping the mug. “Last night. Why did you leave?”

Harry snorted, though it wasn’t funny. “How long did you take to notice it?”

Draco’s guilty look was answer enough for both of them. 

“I’m sorry.” He said, but Harry shook his head. 

“You’re not.” The Gryffindor replied and Malfoy inhaled sharply. “Don’t try to deny it. You were having fun with your friends, and I was bothersome.”

“You were not.” Draco assured him, fingers fidgeting with the porcelain. “I fucked up.” 

Harry sighed deeply, staring at the almost imperceptible set of freckles just over the top of Draco’s pale cheeks. “So why did you?”

“I don’t know.” Draco’s hands messed with his neat hair, leaving the strands mussed up. “I was afraid.” 

“Afraid of what?”

Draco closed his eyes. “Afraid that you’d be hostile towards them, or the opposite.”

“Bullshit.” Harry growled. 

“It’s not.” Draco’s expression turned from guilty to angry. “Despite what you lot think,  _ Potter _ , my friends are important to me, and so are their opinions. It was important to me that they liked you.” 

Harry snorted again, ironically. “That’s not the point, Draco. The point is that you  _ know _ that both your friends and me love you too much to do such a thing, as my friends love me and accepted you by default.” Draco looked like a deer in the headlights with the answer. “You’re lying to me, and I want to know why.” 

“I-” He hesitated and stood up, eyes closed. “You’re just  _ so- _ ” He stopped himself, frustrated. “And we’re-”

“What, Draco?” Harry demanded firmly. “What is it that I am and that you are that makes it all so impossible to you?”

“You’re so bloody Gryffindor!” He let out, making the other man frown. 

“So?”

“So! We were there, throwing jabs and dirty jokes, trading prejudiced, downright despicable lines that our families used to say as if it was a vow, and we were  _ laughing _ at all of that. Not to mention how many times I was felt up or groped.” He stared at Harry. “Your friends are so  _ innocent  _ and  _ righteous  _ compared to us, and so are you. I didn’t think-” He stopped himself as if he didn’t like the thought that followed, but Harry had caught up on him. 

“You thought I wouldn't like you when you’re with them.” He concluded. 

Malfoy just nodded, looking sheepish. 

Harry exhaled loudly. “Look. We both have some self-esteem issues, I know that. But I don’t fancy myself some kind of saint, and neither do my friends. Yeah, maybe Hermione would be too much of a prude to hear some of the things you said last night, but I  _ saw _ how comfortable you were back there. I also saw you quote your dad on a homophobe line, so I know you were all being ironic. And the groping, why would I care about that? I understand it’s your way of establishing intimacy, going beyond common social limits to say that your friendship is beyond common social friendships.” He shrugged at Draco’s gaping mouth. “I’m a Gryffindor, not a moron. Besides, it wasn’t like you were cheating, and I don’t own you. Hell, I wouldn’t even be hurt if you decided that your wedding gift for the Zabinis would be a threesome with you.” He sighed tiredly. “I don’t see sex or relationships like that.” 

“I-” Draco tried to speak again, but Harry cut him. 

“What hurts the most isn’t that you didn’t stay with me the whole night, or that you were having fun without me, or that I had to vent up with Zabini to put my thoughts in order, because my boyfriend wouldn’t give me the time of the night,” Harry continued as if Draco hadn’t spoken at all. “What really hurts is that you think, after all the time we spent together, that I would judge you like that.” Draco’s mouth snapped shut. Harry closed his eyes. “You have an image of me that doesn’t fit, and I’ve done everything I can to make you see that I’m not a saint. I want you to see me as Harry, not Harry Potter, the Chosen One, and I don’t think you can do that right now.” 

Silence. 

“I think you should leave.” He said when he trusted his voice to sound firm once again. “I think we need some time to reassess what’s going on here, and what we want of this.” 

Malfoy looked downright terrified of that. “Time?”

Harry’s body sagged as he rubbed his forehead. "Yeah. Time, Draco.”

“How long?

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, sad. 

The blond fidgeted, fingers fumbling with the hem of the sweatshirt he was wearing. It was Harry’s, and it was a tad too big on him, despite him being slightly taller than the green-eyed man. “But how will I-?” 

“I’ll floo you.” The Gryffindor cut him off before he could second-guess himself or regret his decision. It was for the best, that way. 

Malfoy nodded and slowly head upstairs, gathering his things from the bedroom. He headed to the fireplace and took a handful of floo powder, hesitating. 

“Goodbye, Potter.” He said, breathy. Sad. 

Harry watched him. “Goodbye, Malfoy.”

Then, he was gone. 

Harry grabbed the half-full bottle of whisky. 

 

###

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always welcome, including helpful criticism.  
> I hope you enjoyed it and thanks for reading :)


End file.
